The search for meaning is a search for missing treasure. You’ve never actually seen it, but you’ve heard stories since you were a kid. It might have been something you lost years ago, but ever since then you can’t help but keep your eyes open. As if the answer will soon arrive in some windfall epiphany.
That hunger stays with you as you grow up, though you’re not so sure anymore than you’re on the right track. Too many people make a mess of their own treasure maps. Scribbled over with roadblocks and detours, but they’re still asking around for a shortcut.
You start to think you can feel it getting closer, that you can read the currents of everyday life and notice something gleaming just below the surface of things. But you find the deeper you try to dive into life, the more time you spend in the shallows. You just end up back on the shore, trying to go deeper again.
The best you can hope for is to see where the road takes you. To let your mind wander and enjoy the ride. To find those moments when everything falls quiet, and the words lose their meaning, and it all mixes together. Until you can’t tell the difference between the ordinary and the epic. And you stop waiting around for some other meaning to arrive.
You notice how delicate and fleeting it all seems, everything struggling just to exist. And you too are a guest on this earth; whose life is not just a quest, or an opportunity, or a story to tell. Its also just an experience that exists for its own sake. Its ok to linger in the shallows and take it all in.
But even that won’t bring you any closer to what you’re looking for. Its easy to find but impossible to hold on to.